Achilles
by Magi Silverwolf
Summary: There was once a boy who lived in a cupboard. He could do things that he shouldn't be able to do, but his family made sure that he knew that was not-good. Then along came someone who took him far away.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.

**Warnings:** This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers. Additionally, this story deals with severe child abuse, racism/xenophobic thinking, and human trafficking. Please exercise understanding of personal sensitivities before and during reading.

**Author's Note(s):** An unfortunate part of the general storyline for _The Purpose of Aeries_ is that Harry was in that cave before Tony got there. This is the story of when Harry was transferred from the Dursleys to the Ten Rings.

**Challenge/Competition Block**:  
**Stacked with:** MC4A (FaB; TY; DP; War; Mea; Share; BAON; SIN; NC; LL; PP; SoC; FF; NCR; Star; Fence; ER; MLG; Rum; Cluster; VV; MT; T3; SN; O3; SHoE)  
**Individual Challenges:** Fore-Touch; Small Fry; Death's Inevitable Master; Sett to Destroy; Metahuman MC; Brush; Seeds; Tissue Warning; Interesting Times; Old Shoes (Y); Team Logic; Marvelous Cinema; Ethnic & Present; Neurodivergent; Quiet Time; Letter of the Day; Tiny Terror; Rian-Russo Inversion; Feeling So Logical [Criminal]; Short Jog; Two Cakes!  
**Other MC4A Challenges (Prompt):** Fa Bingo [3D] (Change); Sp Micro 2 (Fusion with Another Fandom)  
**Representation:** Raza; Human Trafficking; Harry Potter & the Dursleys; Autistic Harry Potter; Mutant Rights; MoD Harry  
**Bonus Challenge(s):** Sailor Delight; Easy Zephyr; Second Verse (Nontraditional; Spinning Plates; Unwanted Advice; Lovely Coconuts; Muck & Slime; Bad Beans; Uncivil Obedience; Under the Bridge); Chorus (Pear-Shaped; Wabi Sabi; Machismo; Peddling Pots; Mouth of Babes; Tomorrow's Shade; A Long Dog; Larger than Life; Creature Feature; Abandoned Ship; In the Trench; Turtle-Duck; Sitting Hummingbird; Some Beach; Getting On; Hot Stuff)  
**Tertiary Bonus Challenges:** T3 (Tether); SN (Rail; Spare); O3 (Orator; Oath); TY (Kulonbozo; Enfant); SHoE (Oblique); DP (Yearn)  
**Word Count**: xx

-= LP =-  
**Achilles**  
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The boy watched as they drove past houses and shops. He didn't know where Uncle Vernon was taking him, but since he so rarely got to go anywhere, Harry was determined to just enjoy it. Uncle Vernon _never_ went anywhere with him.

Even Aunt Petunia only took him places when absolutely necessary, preferring to leave him locked in the cupboard where he couldn't make messes. Aunt Petunia didn't mind messes if Dudley made them, and that didn't make _sense_, but Harry understood enough that he knew that asking questions was a_ not-good_ thing to do. Besides, thinking about that would mean not enjoying this trip, which was _in the car_.

That was even rarer than going places.

The sun was already setting but it still felt warm on his face. That was another rare thing that he was determined to just enjoy. Aunt Petunia didn't usually let him out of the house or near the windows, and even then, she only took him along when she wanted help carrying things because the train station was so far away from the house. This must be a very _special_ trip if it was just him and Uncle Vernon _in the car_ and without any need to carry things.

Oh, maybe they were going out to eat, like how Uncle Vernon and Dudley did every Saturday. Maybe they would have _ice cream_. The boy didn't know what that was exactly, as Dudley always ate away from the house, but it had always sounded very good. It always made Dudley happy at least, so it had to be yummy. Dudley didn't eat anything that he didn't like, even if he ate so much more than the boy.

The boy's stomach twisted a little at the thought of food. He hadn't finished his chores in time to earn dinner and Aunt Petunia was extra watchful while Harry had been cooking lunch, so he hadn't been able to steal bites of it like he normally did. That meant that he hadn't eaten since his breakfast of dry toast. He rubbed his middle to try to ease the familiar ache away or at least remind his stomach that this was not unusual.

At least it had been a few days since Dudley had last taunted the boy by offering to share his snack only tell Aunt Petunia that the boy had stolen it. The punishment for that was always terrible. Aunt Petunia would let Harry make a plate of whatever the rest of the family was eating and make him sit at the table with them during the meal.

If Uncle Vernon felt generous, Harry could eat everything on his plate, so long as he actually ate it all and not waste it. His stomach would always protest before he could finish it, either forcing him to stop or forcing him to throw up. Both acts usually earned him swats from Uncle Vernon's belt.

If Aunt Petunia was feeling particularly spiteful, Harry would be told to eat. Then she would take away his plate when she felt that he had had enough of it. If he protested at all, he would earn swats from either Uncle Vernon's belt or whatever she had at hand to hit him with.

Occasionally, Dudley would get whatever was left and would eat it in front of him. Dudley loved to make loud noises of enjoyment of how good the food was, and how Harry was missing out. Sometimes, he would even offer bits back to him. Taking those bits always meant that the boy would be punished just the same as when Dudley shared his snacks, making the whole situation start again.

Harry had learned to eat quickly, which didn't help the food settle on his stomach any, and then to not argue when the inevitable happen.

But none of that mattered because Uncle Vernon was taking him on a trip _in the car_.

Eventually, they pulled into the parking lot behind a junk store. Harry loved junk stores. They were always full of things that could be taken apart and explored. Unlike Dudley's discarded toys, these items didn't come in need of repair usually. Not that it mattered as the boy had gotten very good at fixing things, especially things with wires and doodads.

He would have appreciated being able to explore, just a bit—Aunt Petunia always let him look around so long as he stayed close—but Uncle Vernon kept one hand wrapped around his arm as he dragged him to a specific part of the store. His grip was tight enough to hurt and the angle it forced his arm into was awkward, but Harry daren't complain. His family went out of their way to avoid touching him at all, lest they brush against his skin and be exposed to his freakishness. Despite the pain, this was the most that anyone had touched him in months.

Yet he couldn't allow himself to lose focus. He could already feel the sparking of his freakishness (a different part from the one that made his family not want to touch his skin) starting under his skin in response to the ache. The lights overhead flickered ominously as the many shadows on the cluttered shelves twisted about on themselves like snakes. Like someone had sprayed air freshener, the scent of mums and lily-of-the-valley grew thick in the air. If Harry didn't keep the freakishness inside, then—

"Stop that," Uncle Vernon ordered giving Harry a shake. It was hard enough that his teeth together over the tip of his tongue, flooding his mouth with the sharp taste of blood. "I don't need any of your freakishness drawing attention to us."

"Then perhaps you should stop carting him about like a miscreant," someone answered smoothly.

The boy dared a look up at the new man. His skin was a deep tan, like the Arabs that Uncle Vernon liked to complain about during the evening news. He was clean shaven both on his chin as well as on his head. Like a thin film, the image of a pink burn covered the whole left side of his head. The boy closed his eyes and will the vision away. He did wonder briefly, unable to stop how much he thought about things and how fast he did it, what the man did that would have him dying while so horribly burned.

"The boy might have run off," Uncle Vernon explained. The boy knew that the new man would believe it. Everyone always believed Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's explanation of things, even when the explanation didn't fit. Even the doctor who had checked him out a few weeks ago, because Harry would be starting school with Dudley next month. "I had to keep a firm hand on him."

"If you say so," the man conceded. Then he crouched down in of Harry. He couldn't keep from jerking back in surprise, even if that was a _not-good_ thing to do. No one ever got down on his level. The man smiled as if pleased with the reaction. "Hello, pretty one. My name is Raza. What's yours?"

The boy swallowed as he struggled to sort through his memories for an answer. When he found nothing, he quickly sorted through the few memories he had from Aunt Petunia talking about him. He latched onto the only name she had ever infused with enough distaste to have been talking about him and no one else.

"Harry," the boy whispered. He cringed as his voice broke the quiet. His family didn't like it when he spoke at all, but especially when he did it in public to other people. The only thing worse than talking in public was asking questions. Which meant that there was no way he was going to ask why Raza was talking to him at all. No one ever talked to him if they didn't have to.

"Your uncle tells me that you're a very special boy, Harry," Raza said. Harry looked up at his uncle's face, startled at the idea that he would say anything that could be taken positively. Raza's chuckle drew Harry's attention back to him. "Ah, yes. You are a smart one, aren't you? He did not use those words, true, but I think what you can do is very special." Raza gave a smile with too many teeth showing. It made him think of Aunt Marge's bulldog getting ready to bite. The shadows on the shelves began to stretch a bit as worry pooled in his empty stomach. "Your uncle says that you can see the past with a touch. Is this true?"

The boy hesitated but eventually nodded. Even though no one talked about his freakishness, especially that specific part of it, what good would it do to deny it? It was not the strangest thing in the world. He might not be perfectly normal like the rest of his family, but at least he looked normal. The girl down the street wasn't as lucky. Her peacock tail made it impossible to hide her freakishness.

Raza gripped Harry's chin to tilt his face towards his own. With his other hand, he brushed back Harry's fringe just like Aunt Petunia would do before kissing Dudley's forehead. Horrible things began playing before Harry's eyes, things that made what Aunt Petunia did when she was angry with him seem just as kind as she always claimed it was. Harry felt like he was going to be sick, but he knew better than to pull away from an adult holding him. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had always been clear that he wasn't supposed to do that no matter what, because flinching was definitely _not-good_.

"He doesn't speak much, does he?" Raza asked as if he was inspecting one of Aunt Marge's dogs that he was considering buying. Harry didn't like that, especially since Raza still hadn't let go of his chin. "I would have expected a child to be louder."

"The boy knows better than to be unruly," Uncle Vernon answered. "Stupid boy can't do anything else right, but he did learn that."

"If you say so," Raza agreed amicably. Finally, he let go of Harry in order to stand. Harry immediately tucked his chin against his chest and hugged himself. Maybe if he wished hard enough, he would disappear, and Raza would forget about him. Something about the man made Harry want the safety of his cupboard. "I will have the agreed amount transferred by the end of business."

"Just like that?" Uncle Vernon asked. He sounded suspicious, like he had expected more of an argument. "You think I'm going to let you leave before I have my money? What kind of fool do you take me for?"

"I never lie about money, Mr. Dursley," Raza replied. Harry got the impression that he was amused, but he didn't dare look up to check. He just hugged himself harder. "One should always be honorable in business dealings. Otherwise, everyone loses."

"As long as you understand that there's no refunds or returns," Uncle Vernon grumbled.

Harry risked a look in hopes that something on his uncle's face would explain things. All he saw was his uncle's back because the man was walking back towards the entrance. He made to follow but Raza's hand landed on his shoulder. The brush of Raza's pinkie against his neck had Harry freezing under the memory that leaked through the touch.

Slowly, he turned to look up at Raza's face. The burn was clinging over the man's face again. It looked like one of the masks that the mummies wore in the museum. Harry swallowed hard against the knowledge chilling his bones, knowing that something horrible had happened even if he didn't fully understand it. He did understand one thing, though.

He was never going to see his cupboard again.

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An Ending  
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End file.
